


Fingers Brushing, Shared Cigarette

by hrewannabe



Series: A Feeling I've Never Felt Before [3]
Category: Vampire: The Masquerade, World of Darkness (Games)
Genre: Blood, Brujah (Vampire: The Masquerade), Brujahs being gay, Elysium, F/F, Gen, Slow Burn, Start to a slow burn, Vampires
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-03
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2019-06-21 09:21:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15554583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hrewannabe/pseuds/hrewannabe
Summary: It’s 2005 and one night on a balcony doesn't seem like it will set the wheels of fate in motion, but sometimes it does





	Fingers Brushing, Shared Cigarette

Elysium is full.

The room is packed wall to wall with kindred dressed in their best. Toreadors in long ivory gowns, Brujah in ripped leather and jean jackets, Ventru in sharp suits. Tonight Elysium is being held in a lavish apartment, rented just for the occasion not that Nike cares one lick. They’re here only because of the Toreador Arista Ekeltos _, most of the kindred are here tonight because of her_. Arista and her new _charge_ , all the gossip has been focused on the Greek woman for the last couple of weeks, have spread even to the small Anarch state that Nike’s sire set up in the outskirts of the large city. The shock of a toreador adopting, especially adopting a charge outside of the clan is the source of outrage and scandal. It is interesting in the least and gives everyone something to talk about, a way to maneuver around Elysium and the room far easier than usual.

Nike is tired of going to Camarilla Elysiums for the sole sake of watching her older blood siblings wine and dine around the room. There’s no dancing, no smoky haze lingering in corners, no pool tables, just the sound of voices, glasses clinking, and a string quartet. _Boring._ She’s tired of upholding their silly rules as well, doesn’t like not having her pocket knife tucked into her boot. It’s obvious she doesn’t subscribe to their ideals or rules, that she’s uncomfortable with the glitz and glamour that is required. She’s not comfortable with the looks that the older Camarilla kindred give her when she walks into the room, the small looks of disdain. They mean nothing to Eros, with his curly blonde hair, who swans into the room and dives into the middle of groups or Kore who walks in behind her who splits from the group to start up a conversation with a soft smile on her face with some Anarchs who’ve come for the same reason. There’s a light shove and she knows that it comes from Artemis. The taller girl leans in to whisper. “Hey, don’t be a fucking dumbass this time, _minnow_ ” and moves forward into the room. They pass her and look back, ponytail swinging dark mousey hair and then Athena is passing her and Artemis follows on her heels.

Nike glances around the room. Takes in the different vampires and how the room is filled. She’s scanning for threats, for fun, for interesting things and then they land on the odd Brujah. Tall, choppy blonde hair that needs to grow out a little, dark leather vest paired with a white tank, boots and dark skinnies. She’s the reason they’re here, this odd little thing, the cause of their most recent visits to the main New York Camarilla Elysium instead of staying in their own territory. She watches the blonde rub a hand up and down her arm, A nervous tic maybe Nike muses before stepping into the throng of people.

As she shoulders her way through the room, Nike is looking for weapons, for those that might cause trouble for her siblings. Keeps an eye on the nervous blonde, tracking her movements. Starts looking for refreshments and moves towards a long table where ghouls are serving wine glasses of blood. When she turns back around, glass in hand she catches a glance of the blonde shifting their stance and her eyes and thoughts zero in. The girl is shifting her stance into a mimic of one of Athena’s, it sends Nike’s gaze round the room in search of the oldest of Lavender’s brood before returning back to the tall girl. Who despite their new stance still looks uncomfortable, perhaps just as uncomfortable as Nike feels. She thinks twice about it and turns back to grab another glass. If nothing else, she thinks, I can at least talk to her since she’s the reason we’re here, at least me and Kore. She sighs and tries her best to imitate Kore and Selene’s graceful glides and walks over towards the blonde.

When she reaches the blonde, the girl has taken to rubbing her arm again.

“Hey” Nike smiles, does her best not to let her fangs drop, knows it wouldn’t be polite, could be taken as a threat. “Thought you might like a glass, you look a bit peckish?”  She lets her gaze wander up and down before settling back on their face after letting lingering on the leather vest.

“Thanks” the blonde mutters and reaches for the glass, and their fingers brush, watches the blonde’s eyes rove over her form in return. Enjoys the attention. “You seem a bit tough to be at a Camarilla Elysium...” the blonde smirks and takes a sip. Nike hums and watches the way the blood moves inside the glass. Glances in Kore’s direction, before focusing back on the conversation. She can’t afford to be distracted or nervous right now.

“You’re not wrong” Nike responds and bites her lip gently. How to get the blonde to let down their guard, to tell her information, to give her some one up over her siblings. She’s no minnow, she’ll prove her worth.  “I’m Nike Sullivan, you seem like you don’t belong here either. SO birds of a feather?” she asks tilting her head and letting a sloppy grin spread. Watches the blonde look at the ground.

“I dunno, I’m starting to like it now” and they shoot her a sly smile and extends their hand. “Becca Anderson.” And Nike suddenly has more information than any of her siblings. She has a name. She reaches her hand out to shake. It’s not a gentle handshake, it’s not one of passing notes or gentle greetings. Nike grips hard and watches the other girl flex in the grip and return the pressure, notes the peculiar warmth and callouses.

“Beautiful name, for a beautiful girl” Nike tells her pulling her hand away. Watches the stocky kindred’s smile grow wide. Hopes that her siblings will be proud of the additional information she’ll glean if she gains any. Prays that the information will be good. “Say, your name sound familiar, aren’t you that Brujah that some Toreador in?” decides she’ll play coy, will pretend to not know. Watches the smile fall. Sees the way the girl pauses, before responding. Wonders if she’s ruined her play.

“yeah, that’s me- stain of the Camarilla” the girl huffs out, raises her arms in a joking manner and twirls like she’s copying a move she’s seen someone do. The girl was beautiful, that hadn’t been a lie, and getting a full body turn was nice. She appreciates the way that the blonde had quirked her lips.

Nike’s eyebrows raise. “Well, if you’re a stain, you’re a fine one, a work of art and the Camarilla state is missing out already” she laughs and takes a sip of blood.  “Say, do you wanna go grab a smoke with me?” and gestures towards the balcony. “It’s rather boring in here and you look as uncomfortable as I feel.”

“God, please” she breathes out and they’re heading towards the door. The blonde’s menthols are out before they even reach the balcony and she hands one to Nike. She lets out a mental huff at the blonde’s actions and her inability to offer her own cigarettes, feels as if she’s lost a bit of the upper ground.  She smiles and takes the offered cigarette, pulls out her lighter and then takes a careful drag before scrambling onto the railing, letting her legs hang off the side. Doesn’t care about the long fall awaiting her if she get unbalanced. 

Doesn’t turn to make eye contact, just takes another drag “So, what’s your deal.”

Feels Becca lean up against the railing, and the other girl is clamoring up beside her as she talks. “That’s it. Mr Sire Man gave me smack, gave me sickness, gave me immortality. Now he’s a pile of ash and I live in luxury.” Nike turns to look and Becca is reaching out deftly to pluck the cigarette from between her lips and placing it between her own. Nike watches her take a breath in and then blow the smoke out into the night. “What about you?”

And Nike wants to swoon. Didn’t think that the timid Brujah would have done such an action so effortlessly, would dare to be so bold as to carelessly pluck the cigarette from her lips and take a drag. Didn’t think they would be comfortable or as bold even this removed from the main flow or from their adoptive sire. She wants to lean over so badly, wants to surprise the blonde the same way, but- NO. No. she has a duty, a calling, a job. She can’t be swooning over pretty blondes and their cigarettes and the way their hand brushes up and down their arm mesmerizing her each time.  Has to look away so as to not get caught up in pretty blue eyes and gazes out and down. Watches the cars light up the road and cityscape far below them. Doesn’t need to get lost in blue eyes or caught up in the way that their checks are still flushed a pretty pink on her still life-like face, Nike doesn’t need to want to see the way that her face looks like when- NO! No…no that’s dangerous. Can’t think like that.

“Nothing special really, my sire made me prove my worth for four years before allowing me the privilege of the bite, and since then I’ve tried to make them proud.” Hears the blonde chuckle.

“Four years doesn’t sound like much” they state. “How does one even ‘prove’ themselves anyways” they ask, sarcasm dripping.

Nike turns to the brush of Becca’s arm against hers and turns to the soft offering of the cigarette again to which she partakes. Breathes in deep and letting it out with a soft sigh. She wants to turn fully and look at the girl but in this moment she’s afraid to turn and look into the blue eyes she knows she’ll find regarding her. “It is for a human” slips out and she feels loose in this moment, wants to sprawl out and rest her head in Becca’s lap, doesn’t know her but feels comfortable. Knows it’s too forward, tries not to hunch in on herself, because all of a sudden the need for physical contact is so strong and she doesn’t want to give anything away. To be weak. Straightens her spine and then lets it curve. “By doing the tasks set to me by my sire, I mean every sire deems who’s worthy based on different principles otherwise, I doubt we’d both be here. It would just be sniveling pawns for the elders, no?” and she risks a glance. Watches the way Becca take another breath of smoke and locks eyes, blue and green clashing for a soft moment.

“Pleasing your sire sounds exactly like being a sniveling pawn, doesn’t it” and there’s a pause “Unless you’re friends first, of course.”

“Perhaps, but my sire wants us to be strong! To not depend on others-“ and Nike is surprised at the ferocity in her own voice, at the anger there, has forgot about the beast lurking in her skin and pauses full tilt. Face twisting, watches the stocky woman withdraw her arm from where it had been resting next to her own. “Sorry, what do you mean by friends first Becca?” She’s thrown off kilter by her own reaction.

“Just, you know- your sire is basically your babysitter for years, right? You’d think they’d only commit if you both, I don’t know, had fun around each other. Immortality without friends sounds kinda lame.” The blonde takes another drag, and retreats further. “I guess my situation is weird. Sorry” and they offer a small, smile thats one of the most genuine things that Nike has seen all week.

“No, I- its okay, I shouldn’t have, uh, responded so rudely. I um, I’m not friends with my sire” and she smiles in response to Becca’s. Knows she would be flushed if she was still mortal, cheeks as bright as the blood she partakes in each night. “I am very much a student to their teachings, and there are no friends here Becca Anderson unless they are blood bonded to you or you come from a clan like the sewer dwelling Nosferatu. Immortality is a lonely existence… or at least that’s what my blood siblings tell me” she frowns. Watches Becca’s face twist and contort in anger? Sadness? Something? Before the blonde is moving close and gently pressing into Nike’s space.

“Sounds lame. What’s the point of being a soulless monster if you can’t be with someone you love?”

There’s the sound of the balcony door opening and Nike doesn’t bother to turn to look, is to preoccupied with the now, with the girl pressing into her side. Goes to lean in closer to her before the soft voice of Kore is calling out her name and she’s turning to look away from the bright bright blue eyes. She straightens up, back stiff.

“Nike! We’re leaving now. Athena says that Lavender is calling us home and Eros is getting impatient and egging Artemis on. What are you doing over here” and Nike can spot the moment she catches a glimpse of the blonde leaning into her space, spots the way that their legs are touching, the single cigarette smoking lazily between the two, smoke curling up into the night sky, and the way that their legs dangle off the balcony over the street below them. “Oh” kore breathes out, soft, surprised, hand going to rub at the tattoo on her shoulder. “Sorry to interrupt dear, but let’s go” and she’s walking forward to gently grab Nike’s arm.

Nike looks between the two, putting a soft pressure on Kore’s arm so that she’ll let go. She gently releases her arm for a moment. Long enough for Nike to swing her legs back over and slide off the railing and leans close into Becca’s personal space to whisper. “Thanks for the cigarette, maybe we can talk again sometime beautiful” smirks, gives a jaunty wave and lets Kore steer her towards the balcony doors.

Doesn’t turn around to look, just follows obediently home.

She's not a minnow, she’s a shark and she’ll swim with the best of them.

Tries not to think about the way deft hands had plucked a cigarette from her lips.

**Author's Note:**

> our club says heck to some of the lore published in the guides and as such somethings don't always match up


End file.
